


Blackbird

by fairie



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:38:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairie/pseuds/fairie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The exploration of Mercer's relationship from before, during, and after his employment to Lord Cutler Beckett.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackbird

It was damp and dirty and he supposed the only solace of any of the hosts had of these cells is that they would be free of them soon. The heels of his boots seem echo through the hollow stone walls and accentuate the headache of any man in a drunken stupor. He stops in front of one cell, unlocking the door and heading in, a man sitting, leaning against the wall, the only sign of life to be an empty gaze staring out.  
  
“You made a fine mess of my Admiral. Bleeding all over his oriental carpet. I bet you didn’t expect a man could scream so loud and so shrilly. The neighbours thought he was abusing his poor wife… or mistress. Otherwise they wouldn’t have called at all.” A smug sort of smirk appeared over the younger man and he didn’t wait for an answer to continue talking. “You’ve been here a week and were perfectly docile in your first five days. It’s only in the last two that your behaviour has taken a turn for the worst.” He took a step closer and then his voice lowered to a whisper. “It’s the first time you’ve been betrayed, isn’t it?” He gazed into the empty eyes though he did not expect to find much emotion behind them.  
  
“You and I, we expect people to stick to their word. And when they don’t? What do we have to show for it?” He said and shook his head, a tiny smile curling on his lips. “I wonder how much you can even process with that sedative they gave you...”

 

 

 

* * *

  
Pitter patter, stone by stone. On the wall, on the wall, lines and lines. Every shriek causing a crack. How many would it take for it to fall?  
  
Then the gibber gabber of the words, a line of dolls, porcelain and perfect.  
  
 _Blood…_

_Mistress_

_Blood…_

_So docile…_

_Blood…_

_You and I…_

Soft and silky like lace – how much poison could those hands undo? Cutting open the wounds that had stitched together by whisky and galleons. Quick and nimble fingers slid under his breeches, and their icy touch made him shiver. They were gentle at first but quickly got tired of being fair and violently grasped his cock, a choked whine escaping his lips when they did.  
  
He stared out and all he could see were dark, kohl-rimmed eyes the colour of the sea. Every blink a wave, a stroke that made his soul rage from within. The waves crashed against the rocks, harder and harder, splinters of wood digging into his skin, thorns in his flesh, irreversible, irreparable.  
  
In a single moment he expelled the poison out, his eyes closing, letting the jumble of colours overcome his mind because purple was better than blue and blue was better than orange and better… he quivered as the warmth that had joined his body left, though he could still feel it in front of him, out of reach, always out of reach…  
  
“You’ll never have to feel like this again if you join me.”  
  
A little black bird with broken wings, a silent scream its only song.  
  
“Weak, helpless, at the mercy of another. I’ll come back tomorrow for your answer.”  
  
As the footsteps went pitter patter, stone by stone he knew that he wanted to feel like this every night.


End file.
